


Taking One for the Team

by Yadirocks



Series: The Core [2]
Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-09 06:28:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7790242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yadirocks/pseuds/Yadirocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam hates that people reference the Cardinal Way to insult them and they don't even know what it truly is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking One for the Team

**Author's Note:**

> I made this fic because recently, there's been a lot of "wondering" about what the Cardinal Way is. Most people seem to think that it's hitting players, but my definition of the Cardinal Way and the true definition (because they're both the same thing) are completely different. It's time to put people in their place for thinking those things about us.

Everything had been going smoothly. Things were just starting to feel a little like 2015 once more. They had a lead in the wild card spot. They were competing for the first. They were winning and looking like a contending team for the first time the entire year. There would be nothing that could've stopped them...except, of course, for a pitch up and in on Aledmys Diaz.

Adam had been watching from the dugout, arms dangling over the railing and chin resting on the rail. Michael Wacha stood to his left, Jaime Garcia on his right, and all through gasped when Cashner's pitch sailed a little too close inside to Diaz.

"Fall!" Waino tried, but it was too late. The ball hit Aledmys in the hand, and a chorus of 'oooh's went through the stadium. Diaz was bent over. His good hand was clutching his wounded one, while his face screwed up into a tight grimace. That wasn't good. The medical team was out instantly while Mike made his casual stroll over to Aledmys. He usually tried to give the trainer some space so he could ask a hurt player questions, but Adam really wished he would show more concern and maybe even throw a fit that Cashner hadn't even been given a warning. That was the second time this series that Andrew had thrown up and in, the first time hitting Holli in the nose and making blood spew from his nostrils like a hose. Even though Adam would never wish the managerial role on anyone, if it were him, he would've been ejected by now. Defending your team had to be a priority, in Adam's opinion.

Yadier came up behind him, trying to get a better look at what was going on. "Where did it hit him? I didn't see it," he said, craning his neck trying to look over Adam, which was sort of impossible considering Yadier was only 5'11 and Adam was 6'7. "Come here, shortie, you're going to strain your neck muscles if you keep that up," he said, moving out of the way so Yadier could huddle into the space between him and Michael. Mikey sneered. "Didn't he hit Holli too? No warning, either? That's two of our players that he's injured and he keeps doing it because they're not even giving him a slap on the wrist. It's like they...they encourage it or something," he ranted.

"Should we retaliate?" Jaime asked, glancing back at Carlos.

Before anyone could say anything, Yadier said, "No. They will be expecting that. We will get them back the old-fashioned way: by beating them." Everyone nodded. If Yadier cared enough to speak up about a matter like retaliation, then they were going to listen to him. He didn't speak up all that often on such matters.

Later in the game, Giancarlo Stanton came up to the plate to lead off the bottom of the sixth. Adam was trying to stay cool because even with the roof closed, Tropicana Field was hotter than an oven. The roof being closed only made it stuffy.

Carlos, who was pitching tonight, wiped sweat from his brow with his arm before placing his cap onto his head and stepping onto the mound to get his sign. Once he had it, he nodded, pausing a moment before going into his windup. The ball smacked Stanton in the leg, and Carlos put his head down. Boos echoed throughout the stadium as Giancarlo made his way down to first base. Yadier looked plenty miffed as he walked to the mound. Wainwright found this strange. Carlos always listened to Yadier. Yadi was like his big brother, someone he looked up to, and he definitely didn't want to make Molina mad by not doing what he said on the field. What Yadi said went most of the time with Carlos.

Yadier put his hands on his hips, leaving his mask on so that no one could read his lips. Carlos nodded, and then said something, and Yadier shook his head, saying one last thing before turning and giving Carlos a light pat on the butt. When the inning ended and Giancarlo ended up being stranded at third, Adam approached Yadier as he was taking off his chest guard.

"Did he do it on purpose?" he asked the catcher. Yadier looked up and said, "No. Some of his sweat got on his hand and made the ball slip. I bet they won't think twice about saying it was retaliation, though. The last thing we need is a fight."

Adam nodded, looking at Carlos. He seemed a bit frustrated with himself, drying off his throwing arm with hand towel and rubbing his skin until it became red. Adam went over to him and gave him a pat on the leg. "Keep your head up, Baby Pedro, you didn't mean to," he said.

Carlos sighed heavily. "They are going to think I did," he whispered, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall. "So? Who cares what they think. People can think what they want, but that doesn't change the truth. If the Marlins want to believe that it was on purpose, maybe that's a good thing because they deserved it. I only wish you would've let it slip against Cashner and not Stanton," he said with a grin. Even though he still looked mad at himself, Carlos smiled a little. "Yeah," he said. "Too bad."

The Marlins walked off the game on the worst outfield performance of the year. It was bound to happen eventually, Adam thought. The miscommunication in the outfield had only been getting worse, but once again, he wasn't a coach, so the power of doing something about it was out of his hands.

********

Two hours after the game, Yadier and Adam were sitting on the couch in their shared hotel room, watching MLB Network. Yadier was icing his knees like he did every single night just so he could have the strength in them to play the next day. Adam was always tempted to say something to Yadier, like, oh, maybe 'take a break before your knees give out and you can't play anymore.' Sometimes, Adam thought that Yadier would only retire until those knees finally  _did_ give out underneath him and he just couldn't walk anymore. It was entirely possible, given the drive of the catcher. Adam felt the same about his arm. He would keep pitching until it was no longer useful.

"Let's watch something else. I need a break from it," Yadier said suddenly, surprising Adam. However, Adam couldn't say he didn't feel the same, so he flipped the channel and just so happened to land on the Marlins network channel. He was about to flip it again when the image of Andrew Cashner being interviewed flashed onto the screen. Adam and Yadier shared a look before both of their eyes shot back to the TV.

"What did you think about Martinez hitting Stanton in the sixth? Do you think it was retaliation, or do you think he did it on accident?" one reporter asked innocently. Adam became alert. He swore to himself that if Cashner said anything about his team or about Carlos, he would definitely need to be wearing a helmet next time Adam saw him.

"Hitting people is the Cardinal Way," Andrew said, and Adam felt his face go red with anger. He went to expand on his answer, but Yadier grabbed the remote and turned off the television. He stood and paced the room, walking off his anxiety. He pinched the bridge of his nose to calm his anger like he had been doing recently.

"Should we-" he began, but Yadier snapped, "No."

Adam stared at the carpeted floor. "Then what should we do?" Adam asked. Yadier took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Adam knew that Yadier was very tempted at the moment to go knock on the Marlins locker room door, walk straight in, and beat Cashner up in the middle of his interview. It's what the old Yadier would've done, and it's what Adam would've done too, if Yadier gave the word. "Make sure Carlos doesn't see that," he answered weakly. "I need to go lay down."

Adam nodded, going across the hall while Yadier made his way to his bedroom. "Carlos, open up," he said, knuckles banging on the door. There was a soft click and the door opened. Carlos looked confused, and Adam was relieved to see that his television wasn't on. "What is it?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Adam smiled to cover the fact that he was really just making sure that Carlos wasn't watching that interview. It was probably finished by now anyway, but he didn't want the pitcher to get upset over the harsh words of Cashner. He was still just a kid, after all.

"I was just wondering what you were doing before the flight tonight," he said nonchalantly. The pitcher frowned. "Packing," he said, like it were obvious. It should've been, if he were completely honest, since tonight was their last night and the plane would be leaving in three hours.

"Right. That makes sense. I should go pack too," he said quickly, before closing the door and ignoring the confused look on the young pitcher's face. He waltzed back to his and Yadi's room. He tried to be more quiet so the catcher could rest. He needed these few extra hours of rest, since he was a restless sleeper on plane rides.

Adam took a seat on the couch before calling Holliday. "Hey, man, did you see Andrew's interview after the game?" he said when Matt picked up the phone.

"Rude. Not even a hello for your favorite outfielder. I'm offended," Matt responded. Adam was thankful he couldn't see his eye roll. "Well, you're not Stephen, so I don't know why you would want me to go say hello to him right now," he said, ignoring Holliday's mutter. "Anyway, did you see it?"

"Waino, I just woke up from my postgame nap. You know I haven't even seen daylight in the last two hours. Why, do you want me to watch it or something?" he asked.

"No...well, yes, but don't tell anyone else about it. This needs to stay between us for now, until it becomes more public later on. He said, 'Hitting people is the Cardinal Way.'"

There was a pause, and the Matt growled, "That jerk. What a freaking hypocrite he is. He hit me and then he hit Aledmys and he says _that?_ I'm tempted to go over there and have a few words with him, and my fist will do the talking."

 Adam looked towards Yadier's closed door. "Yadier was pretty upset about it too, but there's really nothing we can do that wouldn't make us look even worse. Is there?" he asked.

There was a long silence on the other end, before Matt sighed and said, "Not that I can think of. If we want to keep it to ourselves, we can't do anything."

Adam chewed on his lip. He hated that there was nothing he could do. He wanted to get Cashner back so desperately, but he had to admit that Matt was right. There was nothing that the three of them could do without letting the rest of the team know.

He said goodbye before hanging up, eyes going to the ceiling. It didn't make any sense. Somehow, people would hate them for hitting Stanton in the thigh, but wouldn't even bat an eye at Holli and Aledmys getting hit in the face and hand. 'It's part of the game,' they had said. However, insulting a team publicly wasn't part of the game.

*******

When it was time to pack up, Adam went into Yadier's room. The catcher had the blankets pulled over his head, and he looked very much like a big lump surrounded by sheets and blankets, considering he was curled up.

"Time to wake up, bud," he said. However, when he tugged on the blankets, nothing was underneath but two pillows. The catcher was gone. Adam felt his heart rate pick up. The catcher's keys, wallet, and phone had disappeared from his bedside table, and his suitcase was parked near the door, ready to go. The catcher must've snuck out when he had gone to make sure Carlos hadn't watched the interview.

"That sneak," he muttered, taking out his phone and dialing Yadier's number. The catcher didn't answer, and he dialed again, only to hear the door creak open. He narrowed his eyes and closed Yadier's bedroom door, sitting on the bed and waiting for the catcher to open it.

And sure enough, the catcher did, teaching in to grab his suitcase. Adam put his hand on the handle, and opened the door to reveal the catcher. "Hey, Yadi, nice to see you," he said. Yadier didn't meet his eyes. He had a cap lowered over his head. 

"Likewise," he murmured, tugging at his suitcase again. He noticed Yadier's knuckles were bleeding, and he asked softly, "Where have you been?"

Slowly, Yadier released the handle. "I found a punching bag," he admitted quietly. "And I punched it until I wasn't mad anymore."

He took his cap off of his head to reveal a bruise on his cheek. "I hit the bag so hard that it came back and hit me in the face."

 Adam clicked his tongue, trying to keep a straight face. "I called Holli and told him about the interview with Cashner, but he promised to keep it between the three of us."

Yadier nodded and grabbed his suitcase from Adam. "Let's get out of here before the traffic gets too bad," he said, already rolling his bag out the bedroom door and down the hallway. Adam went to his own room and threw a few stray items into his bag before following Yadier down the hall.

The sooner they got out of Miami, the better.

*******

"It's broken," Aledmys informed them, looking pretty beat up about it. His eyes wandered to Yadier and Holli, noting their reactions. Yadier kept his head lowered, eyes cast to the carpet, while Holliday shook his head at the news. "I hate that they get away with this crap. When a guy throws up and in on us and harms one of us, no one bats an eye, but when we simply hit someone in the leg, we're the bad guys. Then Cashner goes and-"

"Enough," Yadier suddenly said. The locker room went silent, and all eyes turned to the catcher. He took a deep, calming breath before saying, "We cannot keep our heads in the past or we'll never be able to look forward. This is a new series, a new team, new pitchers. Even though Cincinnati dislikes us, I doubt that they would do something like throw up and in with intent to harm. Let's move on from Miami and focus on the series we can control."

Everyone nodded in agreement. However, the series didn't go the way they wanted. They lost two games and only took home one. It was embarrassing, but even so, not one time did a Reds pitcher throw inside on purpose. It allowed them to take a deep breath and move on. 

The next series was at home, but that didn't really do anything because they still dropped the series to Atlanta. That was even worse, losing in front of their fans so badly. Adam took home the worst of the two losses. 

It was 7-0 because of him. He punched the wall in the dugout, placing his forehead against the brick. He longed for just one last start as the old Wainwright, the guy who had all his stuff and could dominate anywhere he went. That Wainwright was gone.

A hand was on his shoulder. He peeked an eye out to see Yadier standing behind him. "One bad game," he said. Adam shook his head. "I'm having a lot of those this year," he whispered sadly. "Face it, Yadi. I...I don't have it anymore."

Silence. Then, an arm wrapped around his shoulders. "If you believe that, then you're right. You won't have it anymore. Adam, you can't let this beat you. I know that you want to do well, but you can't expect to go out there and pitch like you used to after recovering from something like an Achilles. It'll take some time. And even if you feel like giving up, I'm right here to help you get through it. Okay?" Yadier said. 

Adam nodded, just wanting Yadier to go away and let him sulk. He didn't want to he comforted or told that it would be alright. It wasn't alright. His career was basically over, and facing that fact was a hard pill to swallow.

Yadier left him alone, thankfully. The game only got worse, and they ended up losing 7-4. The next series would be against Cincinnati at home once more. He wouldn't start again until they played the Cubs. 

Michael got hurt in the first game of the series. Out for the season was the verdict, and even though it was a blow to the rotation, Mikey actually looked relieved. 

They were down 4-0 in the ninth when Yadier grabbed his bat. "Everyone stand up and cheer on your teammates," he said. He received a few eye rolls, but everyone stood, going to the railing and watching the at bat. Yadier sighed before stepping out of the dugout and walking to the on deck circle.

"Come on, Brandon!" Adam tried, but Moss flew out to centerfield. One down. Another tough loss just to add on to the tough streak. 

He saw Yadier gaze at the dugout, and there was something in his eyes that Adam couldn't place as anger or determination or desperation, but he looked away too quickly for Adam to figure it out. He stared down the pitcher for Cincinnati. Yadier wouldn't give up without a fight.

And fight he did. He smacked a single into left field, and as he rounded first, he pointed to the dugout. 'Your turn.' 

Slowly, the dugout stirred. It became even more so when Gyorko slapped a double into the corner. Yadi stopped at third, but he clapped his hands at Jedd. One out, runners at second and third. Maybe they could score a run and avoid getting shut out. "Let's go, Greg!" he yelled. However, they intentionally walked Greg to get to the pitchers spot. Hazelbaker popped out. 2 down, bases loaded, for Matt Carpenter.

Just one run, Adam begged. Just one.

He got his wish. Carp muscled a changeup into right field, scoring two. The lead was sliced on half, and now the dugout was going crazy. Two more runs and this was a tied ballgame. Tommy Pham stepped to the plate. 

"Rip one, fam!" Jaime yelled, and shouts of similar encouragement bounced off the dugout walls. Then, Tommy laced another single into left field, scoring the runner from third. One run away. They could do this.

Kolten stepped to the plate with runners at first and second, two outs. "Keep your head on it, kid, tie this game up!" "Watch the ball, Kolten, keep your eye on the ball!" "Swing hard, Wheels!"

He didn't need to. A 1-2 pitch hit Kolten square in the back, but he brushed it off and jogged down to first base. Bases loaded for Moss once more. He worked the count full. Everyone held their breaths. One more pitch and this game was tied. The unthinkable could happen. Even though it was Cincinnati, this may be just what they needed to get back on track.

Moss zeroed in, and the ball was thrown...low. Ball 4. The game was tied. Cheers erupted across the stadium as Moss ran to first base. Yadi stepped up to the plate again, the second time in the inning. He had started this rally. Now he would finish it.

Indeed, he did, but in the most unusual way. On a 1-1 pitch, the Reds reliever threw the ball, but it slipped big time and hit Yadier in the ribs. Adam had never seen a player celebrate a hit by pitch the way Yadi did after the walkoff, but he couldn't blame the catcher. They ran out to meet him at first, and Yadi slid into first base, spraying dirt everywhere and getting it all over his clothes. No one cared. The only thing they cared about was that they had just made the biggest comeback of their season, and it would be one that would change the outcome of the rest.

*******

"The Cardinals had a .4% chance of winning that game tonight when Yadier Molina came to the plate," the MLB Network announcer said. Yadier was konked out on the couch, a bowl of potato chips still resting in his lap and an empty Pepsi can still in his hand.

It was about two in the morning in Cincinnati, and the show was a rerun of the one from a few hours before. ".4%," he whispered, looking Yadier over. "How ironic."

Yadier moved in his sleep, causing the bowl of chips to start to fall from his lap. Adam caught the bowl and placed it on the floor, and took the can from Yadier's hand with a roll of his eyes. He wouldn't say anything just because Yadier had been a huge part of the comeback. He'd let him have his way with the unhealthy eating habits just for the night. Tomorrow, though, he'd wake the catcher up and make him clean up his stuff himself.

He shook Yadier and said, "Think you should go to your room and sleep."

Yadier nodded slowly, heaving himself into a sitting position. He yawned, standing and nearly knocked over the bowl of potato chips. Adam sighed and took the bowl from the floor. "You're a mess," he said. "Go get some sleep before you fall down the laundry chute."

Yadier flipped him off before toddling to his bedroom and closing the door. Seconds later, he could hear Yadier snoring. He shook his head and turned off the TV, deciding to go to bed as well. "I need a new roommate," he murmured, but he knew he didn't mean it. As insufferable as Yadier could be, he couldn't imagine rooming with anyone else. 

He turned off his bedroom lights and crawled into bed. He fell asleep to the ticking of the clock, wondering just how much time they had left to make a comeback. 

*******

"Okay, now I'm ticked," Holli said, grasping his finger. Adam was pretty ticked too. The Cubs pitcher had hit Holliday in the hand with another pitch up and in. Again, no warning. 

Yadier wasn't just mad. He was seething with rage. It was everything Adam could do to keep him from marching out of the dugout and punching the umpire in the face. He'd been screwing them the whole night to begin with, and now he wouldn't even issue a warning on a pitch up and in? 

"Enough is enough," Yadier growled. Very rarely had Adam seen him this infuriated. He paced the training room, pinching the bridge of his nose again. Adam could practically see smoke coming out of his ears. "I need something to punch," he said.

Neither said anything to help him, so Yadier continued to pace. "I think it's broken," Matt whispered. 

"Of course it's broken. They want it to be broken. They don't want us to be able to win, and we win anyway, so the only way to get us out of the race is to hurt our guys. That's bull. The MLB isn't doing anything because they want us to lose too. I'm sick and tired of being everyone's door mat. Next time, it'll be more or Adam or Carlos, and they won't do anything to stop it. I should just quit," Yadier snapped, but Adam smacked him in the face for that.

Yadier stood, frozen in shock. "Sit down," Adam said, and Yadier gave a small nod after a second, sitting on the floor. "No one is quitting. We aren't cowards. Quitting is exactly what they want. You, Yadier Molina, of all people, should know better."

The catcher lowered his eyes to the floor. "I never want to hear you say that again," Adam said, before returning his attention to Matt. "How bad do you think it is?"

Matt let out a whoosh of breath. "If I'm going by the pain scale, it's about a seven. I think it's broken like Aledmys'. I don't know, though, we'll have to wait for the MRI to get back. I guess I'll have a decision to make," he said, but he already looked doubtful. Adam sighed. This couldn't be happening, not to a great guy like Holli. He hated that the outfielder had to go through this.

"Let's just hope it's nothing that will keep you out the rest of the season," Adam said, putting a hand on Holli's shoulder. "Yeah," Matt said. "Let's hope."

The car ride back to the hotel was silent. Yadier stared out the window, a distant look in his eyes. He had a red imprint of a hand on his cheek, but Adam didn't regret slapping him. He couldn't act like that. Leaders don't act like that.

"Think we should get you a punching bag," Adam wondered out loud. "That way you don't say something you don't mean."

All he received was a small nod, but Yadier wasn't really listening. He sighed. Not often did Yadier act like that anymore, but he needed to be put in his place. Adam wouldn't apologize for that.

Adam pulled into the parking lot and parked near the building. He got out, but Yadier didn't move. Adam rolled his eyes and left Yadier to sulk. He was being a baby.

Yadier didn't return the entire night to the hotel room. Adam refused to go down to the truck and check on him, but he couldn't help but worry. He hadn't meant to hurt his friend's feelings so much that he didn't even think Adam wanted him around. 

He sighed, grabbing his keys and going to his truck. However, Yadier wasn't there. His car was gone. Adam was about to call him when he saw Yadier pull in across the street. He got out, and Adam went to meet him. "Where were you?" he asked.

Yadier didn't say anything. He put his head down and popped open the trunk, walking away and leaving Adam standing there, confused. He looked inside to see a box, and he opened it to reveal a punching bag inside. 

Adam sighed, closing the trunk door. This was Yadier's way of saying it wouldn't happen again. He had listened. 

*******

Even though Adam wasn't mad, Yadier still wouldn't meet his eyes and wouldn't chime in on discussions anymore. He kept his eyes on the floor, and his lips sealed. He looked faraway, and it showed at the plate. Before, he'd been doing so well, but now, he wasn't doing so great. 

One day before the game, Adam was sitting next to Holli when Yadier walked in. He went to sit next to them, but then another emotion filled his eyes, and he sat down by himself. "He's really beating himself up," Matt said. Adam sighed, standing up. "I'll go talk to him," he said.

He sat down next to Yadier, and the catcher tensed. "You gonna talk to me or what? You're acting like a baby," Adam said.

Yadier seemed to deflate at these words. Matt stood up, and said, "What Adam means to say is...you're not acting like yourself. We just want our friend back."

Yadier whispered, "I don't deserve you guys. I get too mad. I don't want to hurt anyone."

He looked so sad as he said this. Adam sighed, knowing he had to fix this before Yadier started crying. "Hey, don't think like that. We want you around us, Yadi. You're our best friend. You got mad and you said something you didn't mean. It happens. We're not mad at you."

Yadier met his eyes for the first time in days. "I'm sorry," he whispered. Adam pulled him into a hug. "It's okay. Don't be sad anymore. We're in this together, remember?" he said. 

Yadier nodded, sniffing as he pulled away. "I was being a baby," he whispered, a tear falling down his face. Adam wiped it away. "Well, let's move on from that, then. Sound good?"

His friend nodded, and Matt patted his shoulder with his good hand. "Next time Adam smacks you, I give you permission to slap him back," Matt joked, which made Yadier smile a little. 

"And if Matt ever smacks you, you have my permission to drop kick him into the Pacific Ocean," Adam shot back. That made Yadier smile too, and Adam helped him up. "There. Feel better?"

The catcher gave a small nod. Adam hugged him one last time. "You're my family," he whispered. "I'd never want you to be sad because of something I did."

Yadier shook his head. "I deserved it," he said. "I shouldn't have said those things. You were right. If we want to make things better, we need to stick together."

Adam smiled at his friend. "Now that's the true Cardinal Way."


End file.
